'Estrel and Justin and Ikan went down to the village to meet the new Healer-Priestess and they took Jadrek Minor with them,' Jadrie said, as Kethry noticed that the other three places weren't set. 'Estrel put the babies down for their naps before she left, and Warrl is watching them. Cook said he'd save them lunch; they expected to be back by the time the babies' naps were over.'
'Then I'd better supervise the nursery until they get back, and give Warrl a break,' Tarma said, not only willing, but eager. 'Jadrie, will you and the twins-'
Just at that moment, Kethry felt the room drop away from under her, a wash of anger threaten to overwhelm her, and a surge of nameless emotions hit her with a force that made her gasp. Unconsciously, she braced herself on the table, as her family turned to stare at her with varying degrees of surprise and concern.
And for a moment, she didn't recognize what had hit her, it had been so long-
'Need,' she gasped, when she got her breath back. 'It's Need! Something's wrong, something horrible has happened-'
'To whom?' Tarma demanded. 'Can you tell?' Her face paled. 'Dear gods, surely not Estrel-'
Kethry shook her head, both in negation and to clear the tears of shock from her eyes. 'Not Estrel, it's not in the direction of the village,' she managed to reply. At least in all the time she'd been soul-bonded to the blade, she'd learned to pick out which direction that 'trouble' was coming from. 'But it can't be too far away, not more than a day's ride at most, or it wouldn't be this strong-'
Jadrie and the twins stared at her with alarm and dismay. Of course, they've never seen me like this before, Need hasn't grabbed me like this in years-
'Should we send out a hunter or something-' Jadrek began, and Tarma snapped her fingers.
'Of course!' she said, then frowned in concentration. 'Keth, what direction?'
'North, north and a little east,' she replied, as sure of it as if she was the needle of a compass pointing to the source that was wrenching at her skull and heart.
A door slammed somewhere, as Tarma said, 'Warrl's on it. He's faster in this weather than anyone, and he'll find out exactly where the trouble is. Can you hold out until he calls me or comes back himself?'
'I'll have to, won't I?' she replied grimly, for now the pull that the sword exerted on her had settled to a painful headache echoed by wire-tight muscles in her neck, shoulders, and stomach. 'This isn't something we can delegate. We'd better get ready to ride. Jadrek-'
'I won't be of much use to you, dearest,' he admitted without rancor, a fact that brought tears of gratitude to her eyes. 'Or rather, I will be of more use to you here with the children. What can I do to help prepare?'
'Travel packs; you know what I need,' she said immediately. The mere thought that she wouldn't have to try and think through this pain to select what she would require came as a profound relief.
'I'm on it, love.' Jadrek pushed away from the table and left the room, as quickly as he could.
Tarma took over, as the three children stared, dismayed and frightened. 'Children, you three get Hellsbane and Ironheart ready. Jadrie, you've had lessons in provisioning, you make up the packs for the horses. I'm depending on you to get it right. Boys, saddle and harness the mares, and when Jadrie's put the packs together, bring them to the riding arena. Go.'
The children scrambled to their feet and sped out of the room like three hornets from a roused nest. Tarma turned to Kethry, who was taking slow, even breaths, and trying to get a little magical shielding between herself and the pain. 'Keth, get to your rooms and get changed. I'll tell Cook what's going on, and he can handle the servants until Jadrek has time to deal with them, I'll get changed and collect the medical kit and traveling cash, and I'll meet you at the riding arena. Good?'
She nodded; in a moment or two she would be able to walk. 'Right,' she replied, and as Tarma left her alone in the room, she began a silent colloquy with the sword hanging on the wall of her sitting room, trying to persuade it that nothing was going to happen unless it gave her -- not freedom, but a long enough leash to act.
Old warriors never let their fighting gear get out of condition; that is how they become old warriors in the first place. Tarma's armor and weapons were always kept oiled, polished, and in a place of honor on the proper stands in her room. When the family made its annual summer pilgrimage to the Plains, she wore it religiously, even though in all the years she had done so, they had never once been set upon.
So in her case, it wasn't at all difficult to assemble the proper pack and get herself properly arrayed. In fact, the pack was complete and she had just about finished lacing herself into her armor when she heard Warrl's 'call' in the back of her head, as if he was shouting from a long distance away.
